


A Little Faith

by NinjaGogeta



Series: The Quirky Collection [2]
Category: Hyperdimension Neptunia, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: F/F, Female Midoriya Izuku, Good Parent Midoriya Hisashi, Midoriya Inko Tries, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Playing With the Concept of CPUs, Quirk Misdiagnosis, Quirk Side Effects (My Hero Academia)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaGogeta/pseuds/NinjaGogeta
Summary: Heroes are those who are believed in. The people have faith in them and their ability to save and defend. To stand up for what's good and right. To succeed.Izumi could do with a little of that faith herself. But when her quirk is literally called Weakness, she finds people's belief in her to be in short supply.But when Izumi meets another girl her age, she learns that a little faith can go a long way.
Relationships: Jirou Kyouka/Midoriya Izuku
Series: The Quirky Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146518
Comments: 39
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in my Google Docs for a while. Had a crappy January so I didn't work on much. But, with my brand new desk I'm hoping to get more writing done.
> 
> This is a story based on the CPU Deku chapters from my Quirky Compendium of Dekus collection. This is a more expanded take on the concept, and will be different from CPU Deku in several ways. The pairing stays the same, though. CPU Deku will still get chapters, some day, but naturally they'll stick to their own continuity. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this story. I've got some nice plans for it and I'm excited to see them through.

“Oh no! Help me!”

“Don’t worry! I am here!”

“Oh, my hero~!” Inko laughed, pulling her daughter into a hug. 

Izumi’s smile was almost painful, but she couldn’t help it. She’d just ‘saved’ her mommy from the dastardly ‘villain’ that had captured her. 

“I think my hero deserves a reward, hmm? How about a cookie!”

That wasn’t right! “Mommy!” Izumi wiggled out of her mother’s hold and put her hands on her hips. Inko blinked and tilted her head. “Heroes don’t need rewards! Saving people  _ is _ the reward!” Izumi said this with a firm nod.

Her mommy smiled at her, warm and full of life. “Oh, with that kind of attitude you’ll be a wonderful hero, sweetie.”

Izumi’s smile grew even larger. She loved it when Mommy said that. It made a small warmth throb in the middle of her chest. 

Still…”Umm...can I still have a cookie?”

Inko laughed, pulling her daughter in tight. “For my Little Hero? Of course!”

The warmth pulsed, and Izumi buried her face into her mommy’s neck, giggling.

She couldn’t wait til she got her quirk!

* * *

“You should just give it up,” the doctor said, leaning back in his chair. 

Izumi dropped her All Might toy. She sat through the answering of her mother’s questions in silence. Her body felt cold, frozen in a state of denial as he explained her condition. 

Quirkless.

As the voices around her grew muffled, Izumi tried to focus on that small warmth in her chest. It was growing cooler by the second.

* * *

“ **Don’t worry! I am here! AHAHAHAHAHA!”**

Izumi pressed play again. She didn’t know how many times she’d pressed it. She wanted it to make her feel warm again. The small ember in her chest was barely enough to keep her going.

“Mommy,” she finally said. The warm pulse was sluggish and getting slower and slower. Turning the chair around, she pointed at the computer screen. Her vision blurred. “Can I still be a hero like All Might?”

“Izumi...Oh, Izumi!” her mommy cried, pulling her into her embrace. “I’m so sorry!”

...No, Momm...Mom...that...that’s not…

The pulsing was now a vague throb. She tried to keep hold of it, to keep it alive.

* * *

“Did you hear? Midoriya is quirkless!”

“What’s that?”

“It means she doesn’t have a quirk!”

  
“Ehh? What a weirdo.”

Izumi’s lips wobbled. “I-It doesn’t matter!” she yelled. The class went silent, turning to look at her. “I-I’ll be a hero without a quirk!”

A second of silence. Then, laughter. Above it all was the one voice she didn’t want to hear laughing at her.

“Get real, Izu!” her best friend, Kacchan, said. The class quieted down to giggles as he approached. A grin came over him, and it wasn’t the nice smiles she was used to from Kacchan. “You can’t be a hero without a quirk, you quirkless loser.”

The vague throb stopped. A seeping chill spread through her body. It was hard to breath. Breathing was so easy with the warmth. With it gone it was a chore. Her limbs shook as they held her weight.

Kacchan’s not-nice smile blurred. The giggles and laughs faded. Izumi blinked, slow, sluggish. Why was she looking at the ceiling?

* * *

“...wh….wro...th h…?”

“...ure...coul...b...qui...ated…?”

“...quirkless…”

Izumi groaned. She felt horrible. She felt so many things. Like she'd swallowed sawdust, like her eyes were glued together, and she was cold; so cold. 

“Izumi!”

Izumi whined, curling up on her side. Her mom’s voice was loud. Too loud. 

“I think we should let her get some more rest, Midoriya-san. In the meantime, I’d like to talk to you about your daughter’s quirk.”

Izumi shifted, trying to open her eyes. Quirk?

“B-But I told you, she’s quir-”

The door of the room closed with a click. Izumi moaned. She wanted to hear what was being said. But her awareness was fading. Her body sinking into the mattress. The rhythmic beeping by her bed lulling her to sleep.

* * *

“So...Izumi does have a quirk?” her mother said. Out of the corner of her eye, Izumi saw her mother wring her hands. Izumi’s attention, however, was focused on the doctor.

He nodded. “It seems so. We did a blood test when she was admitted. We were concerned that Izumi had a terminal condition of some sort, since she lacked any symptoms of the flu or even a cold. Upon looking at your daughter’s blood, traces of Quirk Factor were noticed. The lab techs thought it was odd, considering she was marked down as Quirkless. So, we did a second blood test, and low and behold your daughter shows signs of having a quirk.

“We’re working under the theory that her quirk has caused her condition. She’s been put through every medical test under the sun and then some, but nothing’s come up. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“B-But, our doctor told us she didn’t have a quirk because she has the joint in her pinky toe!”

The doctor let out a long breath. “The pinky toe test is an old theory. In recent years, cases of people with quirks being misdiagnosed as quirkless have been popping up all over the world. It’s rare, but it happens.”

He hesitated, looking down at his notes. He looked up and for the first time, looked Izumi in the eyes. His gaze flickered back to her mother. “We’ve tentatively given her quirk the name...Weakness.”

“Weakness!?” her mother squawked.

“W-Well, it’s a temporary name, but…”

Izumi stopped listening. She didn’t want to hear anymore. 

The block of ice in her chest grew colder still.

* * *

“How cruel,” said one of the nurses, whispering. Like Izumi couldn’t hear her. “To have your own quirk make you so unhealthy, and for no payoff either.”

“At least she isn’t quirkless,” said another, not as quiet. 

“Maybe she would have been better off if she was,” a third said. They moved on, out of Izumi’s earshot.

Izumi wished she had the strength to throw something at them. What did they know about being quirkless? Did their dreams revolve around having one? Did theirs make them infirm and helpless? Unable to help  _ others _ ? 

That was the worst part. She wanted to be like All Might. She bet All Might never felt like this. Weak and worthless. Helpless.

A hero helped the weak. They couldn’t be weak. They couldn’t help others if they couldn’t even help themselves.

Her dreams were crumbling around her ears. It made her want to hold her hands over them and block out the world. 

She would have cried, had she the energy.

* * *

Over the next year, her mother cried enough for the two of them. She tried to hide it, but ducking out of the room for twenty minutes and coming back with red eyes wasn’t exactly subtle. Her father came back from America for a visit, early on. He kept up a stronger front, yet the pain in his eyes was palpable.

She didn’t see him much that year. Before he could visit every couple of months, but a hospital room was expensive. He had to work more, her mother told her. It made Izumi feel like more of a burden.

After a year and a bit she was given the go ahead to leave. Her health had stabilised to the point that she could go home, and Izumi was glad to see the back of that hospital room. Sometimes, she could still hear the beeping. She lay awake late into the night, trying to block out sounds that didn’t exist.

She wasn’t better. Of course not. She was doomed by a hiccup of genetics to be sick for the rest of her life. But she could be ill in the comfort of her own home. Silving linings.

* * *

“Izumi? Here’s your lunch,” Inko said, opening her daughter’s door. 

Izumi didn’t look up from the handheld console she was playing on. Her pillows were fluffed up and propping up her small body. The duvet covered her legs, with the console resting on it. She was to be kept as warm as possible at all times. If she caught a cold then all the progress she’d made since the hospital would be washed away.

But no matter how much her body was kept warm, it didn’t chip away at the block of ice in her chest.

Edgeshot cried out as his digital avatar fell off a platform. Izumi pouted as the Game Over screen appeared. Again. As she hit restart, her condition sat at the back of her mind, as was her father’s intention when he bought her the console. The fact that he was still thinking of her while working enough for two people made her smile, though guilt weighed on her shoulders like a cowl. She’d almost not touched the thing at first, but she also didn’t want to be ungrateful.

Fortunately it came with a few hero themed games to keep her occupied from such things. Inko had been worried at first that a hero game would upset Izumi, but despite everything Izumi couldn’t find it in herself to feel bitter towards heroes. If anything, it made her love heroes all the more.

She couldn’t be a hero anymore, but in games she could be. She could jump from rooftops as Edgeshot, shoot flames as Endeavour, and save the day as All Might. It wasn’t the real thing, but it was enough.

It had to be.

“Izumi?”

Izumi blinked, snapping out of her gaming daze. Her mother was giving her one of those concerned looks that the woman didn’t realise just looked pitying. “S-Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, don’t worry sweetie, as long as you’re having fun,” Inko said, her smile unconvincing. She placed a tray with a plate of onigiri on and a glass of water on Izumi’s lap, doing it slowly so the girl had time to move her console out the way. Then from her pocket she pulled out a multicoloured box. 

Izumi’s temporary relief from her gaming haven faded at the sight of that box. Inko popped open a coloured plastic lid—a blue one with WED written on it—and poured out several pills. Vitamins. Smelly ones, which made Izumi's nose curl even from a distance. Inko waited for Izumi to hold out her hand, which she did with great reluctance. Inko held the glass of water, waiting for Izumi to put the pills in her mouth.

Izumi cringed from the taste, and Inko was swift to give her the water. Izumi drank quickly, but not enough to choke. That mistake had been made before; the coughing hurt more than the vitamins tasted bad. Izumi closed her eyes, willing the after taste to go away.

Inko sat in silence as Izumi ate her lunch. Izumi stared at her lap as she ate, wishing she could chew faster. Eventually her plate was empty, and Izumi finished her water. Taking the tray back, Inko tried another smile and bade her daughter goodbye for now.

Izumi stared at her lap long after the door shut. 

She didn’t feel like playing right now.

* * *

Izumi stared at the ceiling. The beeping was back, pounding through her brain like a pile driver. She did not look to her side. She knew the machine wasn’t there, but an illogical part of her brain worried it would be. She didn’t have the courage to dispel that illusion.

Tonight muffled sobs from another room joined the beeping. Her mother didn’t cry every night, but often enough that Izumi could count the nights she didn’t on one hand with fingers to spare. It always made the chill sting, like a harsh winter wind slipping through her ribcage.

Izumi’s eyes moved down a little, enough to just about see one of her All Might posters in the dark. She wondered, for not the first, time, if All Might ever felt so helpless and alone. If any hero did.

Unlikely. Everyone believed in heroes. No one doubted that they could save the day. That they could do anything. Especially All Might.

She wished, more than anything, that someone would think the same of her someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izumi's having a rough time of it, ey? 
> 
> Let me knows what you guys think. I really enjoy engaging with readers of the Compendium, and I hope to continue that here.
> 
> Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izumi gets a doctor's visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nep.
> 
> I started playing Super Neptunia RPG today, since the game rental company I use coincidentally sent it to me shortly after I posed this story lol. Pretty decent so far, I'll see if it stays that way.

All Might is her favourite hero. That was true Before, and is true Now. 

But he was also a reminder. Of happier times. Of days when she looked forward to her quirk, dreamed about using it to save people and make them feel safe. Like him. 

She would always respect and love All Might. But it also hurt.

It was why she changed the channel. All Might sitting in a too small chair, making an interviewer laugh and talking about how you can become a hero if you work hard enough. A hard thing to believe, when you’re sitting in your bed surrounded by covers and pillows, coughing at random intervals.

The channel changed to a live report. Izumi gasped. 

“—five villains who began rampaging in the Mustufu Shopping Mall. We do not know why the villains are doing this but—oh! A hero has arrived on the scene! It’s...ahem, the R-Rated Hero, Midnight.”

Izumi didn’t know what R-Rated meant, but she knew what a hero was. She’d also heard about Midnight before. She was involved in something about costume regulations. Whatever she had been involved with in the past, right now she was taking on five villains single handedly. 

Izumi watched as Midnight got surrounded by the villains, and she gasped. But without her grin even faltering, Midnight grabbed part of her costume and ripped it! Izumi had seen heroes’ costumes get damaged before, but this was the first time she’d seen one do it themselves.

A lavender coloured mist seeped from the tear. The villains charged Midnight, but they couldn’t touch her. With graceful motions Midnight evaded their grabs and swings. She even pushed one back with her high-heeled foot and knocked them over, and Izumi found herself giving a little cheer. The villain didn’t get back up, and then the others were falling over as well.

“Midnight’s quirk, Somnambulist, allows her to produce a gas that can knock villains out flat,” the live reporter said. The camera zoomed in on Midnight’s smile as she covered the rip in her costume with a hand. “Once again Midnight has resolved a situation without injury or property damage. Stay tuned as we get an interview with Midnight...once her gas dissipates, of course!”

Izumi sat with a smile on her face. The confidence and grace that Midnight displayed was incredible. It wasn’t like watching All Might or Endeavor resolve a situation. While those two had confidence aplenty, their movements had never enraptured her like Midnight’s. 

Izumi wanted to be like that, someday. Even...even if it wasn’t as a hero, she wanted to be able to carry herself like Midnight did. First, though, she needed to be able to move around at all.

She still didn’t know what R-Rated meant. Maybe she should ask her mother.

* * *

Izumi fidgeted with her duvet, trying to stay still as the doctor examined her. The doctor sat back with a breath. He turned to the anxious Inko. “Well, Midoriya-san, while I wouldn’t say that Izumi-chan’s condition has improved, it also hasn’t deteriorated.”

“Is that...well, what does that mean, Kenkō-sensei?” her mother said, hands wringing together. Two years since Izumi’s quirk came in and the strain was obvious. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and the stress eating was starting to show. Spending all her time inside looking after Izumi also hadn’t done much for her complexion, either, making her look entirely too pale under her dark green hair.

“I think Izumi-chan will be able to start going outside again, Midoriya-san,” the doctor said, putting his stethoscope back in his bag. “In fact it might do her some good. I’d suggest taking her to the local park a couple of times in the week. If she responds well then she can even start going to school.”

Izumi perked up. A year of nothing but her bedroom, after a year of nothing but her hospital room, had her aching to see the outside world again.

“B-But wouldn’t that make her worse again, Kenkō-sensei?” Inko said, glancing at Izumi and back at the man. 

“I won’t sugarcoat it for you, Midoriya-san, it might. However, Izumi-chan’s condition seems to have stabilised. For the last two weeks her health hasn’t gotten better or worse. It’s possible that her body has gotten used to her quirk; an adjustment period, if you will. Either way, unless we try to get Izumi-chan out and about again, then she may never get better. It doesn’t have to be a long trip out. In fact, for the first week I would recommend walking to the palk and coming straight back.”

Inko looked back at Izumi. Izumi gave her mother her best pleading stare. Inko deflated and gave the doctor a weak nod. “A-Alright, if that’s what you think is best, Kenkō-sensei.”

“I do, Midoriya-san. It’s my belief that Izumi-chan’s quirk has settled now, and it won’t get any worse than this. If we can get Izumi-chan to be as healthy as possible, then the effect her quirk will have on her body should hopefully lessen. Think of it in, if you’ll forgive the slightly childish comparison, terms like an anime character’s transformation. The stronger they are in their normal form, the more powerful they will be when they transform. My theory is that Izumi-chan’s quirk works similarly.”

“I-I think I understand. Then I will do as you say,” Inko said, bowing. The doctor bowed back and, after a goodbye to Izumi, the man let Inko lead him out of the house.

Izumi stared at her lap, almost quivering in excitement. She was going to be allowed outside again. She might start getting better! It was a warm thought.

Yet the block of ice in her chest didn’t even chip.

* * *

The sun was brighter than she remembered. It made everything painful to look at, like needles in her eyes. Izumi had to squint to see anything. Minor concerns. Because Izumi was outside again!

The warm summer breeze, the smell of freshly mown grass, the chirping of the cicadas… things Izumi had taken for granted, Before. Izumi took a deep breath to appreciate them Now. In the likely event that Izumi got sick again, she wanted to engrave the smells and sounds of outside into her memory. Well, as much as she could with a face mask on.

Apparently her immune system was still a little shoddy. Or something along those lines. Izumi wasn’t quite sure about the words her mother used, and she didn’t think her mother was either. Doctors liked big words.

Her mother kept a tight grip on Izumi’s hand, as well as a close eye on her daughter. They walked at a slow pace, and the park wasn’t very far from home, yet Izumi still found the trek tiring. Barely using your legs for two years has side effects, it seems. Izumi fought to keep the effort she was exerting off her face. She didn’t want to give her mother any excuse to put an end to these walks.

The sun seeped into her skin, warming her body. It didn’t thaw the frost in her chest, but it was the closest she’d felt to that old warmth in a long time. 

The cries and yells of children heralded their arrival at the park. Boys and girls Izumi’s age running around, playing, having fun. Not one of them showing any sign of being tired, despite moving so much that it made Izumi feel exhausted just looking at them.

In her chest she felt a tug. It was trying to pull her towards them, to join them in their fun. Her feet almost moved, but her mother’s tight grip on her hand kept them in place.

“Time to go home, Izumi,” Inko said, pulling on Izumi’s hand ever so gently.

And Izumi could have argued. She could have made a scene. She could have tried to take advantage of being outside again. But she knew. Knew that if she did and she made herself sick again, then her mother would never let her leave her bed. That she’d never get better.

So Izumi let her mother lead her away. And she let the woman pick her up when her legs became too weak to support her much longer.

She waited two years to get outside again. She could wait a little longer.

* * *

Her mother wouldn’t let Izumi go out again that week. After their first trip Izumi fell asleep as soon as they got home. Inko watched Izumi like a hawk, hanging around outside her door to try and catch the smallest cough or wheeze. 

Izumi wanted to go out again, of course, but her legs hurt after the walk. Even after a few days they still hurt. And the sun had given her a migraine. Her mother took her games console away for a few days, and she wouldn’t let her watch TV. The last thing Izumi needed, she said, was to be looking at screens.

Now on  _ that, _ Izumi had been tempted to have a tantrum. If she didn’t have something to distract her then she would be thinking about things. Couldn’t drown out the beeping with background noise. But the migraine made her feel sick at even the thought of exerting the effort to have a tantrum.

So instead she tried to sleep. Tried to sleep through the migraine. The beeping shot spikes of headache induced agony pulsing through her skull. It was enough to make Izumi cry into her pillow. It made her feel almost as bad as the day her quirk came in.

But it didn’t last nearly as long. By Tuesday of the next week, Izumi was feeling better. Or, as better as she could get. At the very least, the constant migraine was gone.

It made her hopeful.

* * *

“Mom, can we go out again?”

Inko tensed, fingers clenched around the lunch tray. Her neck practically creaked as she turned it to look at Izumi. Her daughter’s green eyes, wide open and not narrowed in pain for the first time in days, burrowed into her own. 

Inko bit her lip. “I-I don’t know, sweetie…” Her eyes trailed over Izmi’s bed bound form. She blinked, eyes suspiciously wet as she looked away. “Doesn’t your head still hurt?”

Izumi shook her head. “No, it stopped yesterday. It’s totally gone! Please, Mom, I feel loads better now! I’ll close my eyes this time. Um, sometimes, though, cus I still need to see. But! Oh! Maybe I can get some sunglasses, like, umm, Present Mic! Then the sun won’t hurt my eyes!”

Miraculously, Inko seemed to get less tense. “Sunglasses…” she muttered, rubbing her fingers along the tray. She visibly mulled it over in her head. As she did, she looked back at Izumi. One look into her daughter's large, pleading eyes, and she relented. “Well, alright, Izumi, we can go out again. Doctor’s orders, and all.”

“Yay!” Izumi threw her arms up. Then started coughing. 

“But not until tomorrow!” Inko yelped, almost dropping the tray as she rushed to rub Izumi’s back.

“B-Boo…” Izumi coughed.

* * *

Izumi looked at her reflection in her handheld console. Her mother had gone out and bought her a pair of sunglasses after lunch. To Izumi’s amazement, they actually looked like Present Mic’s! But with green lenses!

She couldn’t believe that they were already making Present Mic merchandise. He’d only finished being a sidekick within the last year!

(In truth, Inko had just spent an hour looking for a pair that looked as close to Present Mic’s as possible, but decided to not tell Izumi that.)

The thought that maybe there were Midnight style sunglasses crossed Izumi’s mind, but she decided to keep it quiet. Her mother had already bought her these, plus when she’d asked her mother what R-Rated meant, Inko had choked on her tea and refused to answer. 

She decided not to ask about Midnight anymore after that. The subject made her mother turn red, and Izumi didn’t want her mother to get sick as well! She got sick enough for the both of them, she felt.

Whatever her sunglasses looked like, they’d made her mother more willing to take her outside again. It had been close, she knew that look in her mother’s eyes. The woman had been on the verge of refusing from fear of Izumi’s condition worsening. It was the same look the woman got everytime she rushed to do something for Izumi.

It was frustrating. Yes, her mother cared about her, loved her, but sometimes it felt like…

Izumi shook her head, ignoring the nausea it caused. Whatever. Izumi was going to get better. The doctor said so! She had to believe that. 

Even if her mother didn’t.

The chill in her chest, constant as it was, felt a little colder at that thought.

_ Beep _

Izumi turned on her console, putting the volume on max.

The sounds of Best Jeanist tearing through a crowd of thugs drowned out anything else. She lost herself in the pressing of buttons and chaining of combos.

Ignoring the faint migraine still pulsing behind her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't lie about your health, kiddos. Do not condone IRL. 
> 
> Also, before anyone says anything, sensei is used for teachers AS WELL as people in positions of authority and/or to show respect to those who have reached a certain level of mastery in an art form or other such skill, i.e. doctors, novellists, musicians, etc. Just in case anyone was unaware.
> 
> Nep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izumi goes to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. Super Neptunia (pretty fun game, btw) took up some time, but mostly I was distracted by Yugioh Duel Links and reading.
> 
> I've had this story outlined up until Izumi enters UA since before I started writing it, and the stuff in this chapter is probably the most boring stuff in that outline. So it took a bit for me to power through it.
> 
> Anyone else (tangent, btw) hate it when your party gets split up in RPGs? And then you run into enemies that given super high exp, so when you meet back up with your party your like level 25 and they're all level 14. Cus that's real annoying.

“Inko? Is that you?”

“Mitsuki?”

Izumi was forced to come to a stop as her mother paused, being hand in hand as they were. Approaching them was a woman who looked vaguely familiar to Izumi. Actually, she looked rather familiar. Spiky blonde hair and red eyes…

“Is that Izumi-chan?” the woman said, eyes widening slightly as they took Izumi in. Her red eyes, which looked exactly like… “It’s great to see her out and about again!”

“Y-Yes,” Inko said, tightening her grip on Izumi’s hand. “The doctor recommended that she go out for short walks a couple times a week, so…”

“I see. Makes sense.” Mitsuki nodded, putting a hand on her hip. “Hey, Izumi-chan, bet you don’t remember me? I’m Katsuki’s mom, Bakugou Mitsuki.”

A shudder ran through Izumi’s body. “Kacchan’s mom…”

“That’s right! Speaking of the brat, he should be around here somewhere...OI!” Izumi flinched as Mitsuki yelled over her shoulder. “BRAT! GET OVER HERE! STOP SCREWING AROUND!”

“SHUT UP, YOU HAG!”

“DON’T TELL ME TO SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE SHIT! JUST SHUT UP AND GET OVER HERE!”

Izumi gripped her mom’s hand as he drew near. He looked a little taller, but other than that her once best friend looked exactly the same. Just like the last time she saw him. When the last warmth in her life turned to bitter cold.

Before she woke up in the hospital, with her life collapsing around her ears.

“What?” Kacchan snapped, scowling at his mother. He didn’t bother looking at Izumi or her mother.

“Look who it is, brat. It’s Izumi! You remember Izumi, right?”

Green met red, and his scowl somehow got more severe. He looked back at his mother. “Hah? She’s still alive?”

“Katsuki!” Mitsuki snapped, narrowing her eyes at her son. “Stop being such a brat and say hello to your friend!”

The upwards twitch at Kacchan’s top lip showed what he thought of  _ that _ sentiment, but nonetheless he turned to her. “Hey.” Red eyes that could be called cold if they weren’t so scornful bore into Izumi.

“H-Hello, K-Kacchan…” Izumi said, shuffling so she was half behind her mother’s leg.

Kacchan scoffed and looked up at his mom. “Weren’t we going somewhere?”

Mitsuki rolled her eyes, obviously giving up. “The brat has a point. I’ll give you a call some time, Inko. We need to catch up.” Inko agreed, and Mitsuki grabbed Kacchan’s hand. “Come on, brat, let’s go. And don’t you dare make a little fireworks show in my hand again!”

Kacchan scoffed and left with his mother, not sparing Izumi a second glance.

Laughter. Scorn. The world spinning. Vision blurring. Beeping— 

_...quirkless loser… _

“Izumi?! Are you alright!”

It wasn’t until her mother asked that did Izumi realise she was shaking. With a gasp Izumi was brought back to the here and now. Her mother crouched before her, holding her shoulders, staring at her with worried eyes. Warm, green eyes.

“Izumi?”

“I-I’m alright,” Izumi said, blinking away the tears that wanted to fall. She gave her mother a big, wobbly smile, wanting to reassure her. Then, remembering she was wearing a face mask, Izumi scrunched her eyes up in what she hoped looked like a happy expression. “P-Park! Let’s go!” she said, tugging on her mother’s hand.

Inko, not looking convinced, nodded, slow and deliberate, and stood back up. She wrapped her fingers around Izumi’s hand. “Okay...Let’s go then.

Izumi remained subdued for the rest of the walk. A few times she felt her legs almost collapse under her, but she pushed through it each time. 

She’d been making progress lately, and she refused to let Kac...to let Katsuki ruin it.

She wouldn’t let anyone ruin it.

* * *

“ **_Prominence Burn!_ ** ”

Izumi watched with a grin as Endeavor unleashed his ultimate on the group of enemies on screen. Hero Warriors was a great game, although a little suspension of disbelief was required, According to the game, the hordes of villains they plow through are only “incapacitated”.

Izumi hoped to never see the villain that would only get  _ incapactitaed  _ by a giant beam of searing flames.

Izumi was in the middle of her favorite combo when her mother opened her door. “Izumi? Can we talk for a moment?”

Izumi paused it, a sense of dread seeping in. Those weren’t often good words. But her mother didn’t look particularly worried, just...concerned? Wait, wasn’t that the same thing? Izumi wasn’t sure.

“Izumi?”

Izumi shook her head, ignoring the faint twinge of nausea with practiced ease. “What’s up, mom?”

Inko sat in the chair next to Izumi’s bed, folding her hands in her lap. “I just got off the phone with Kenkō-sensei.”

Izumi blinked. Kenkō-sensei had been there just the other day, so Izumi wondered what the man had to say now.

“He said he’s been looking at his notes about your condition over the last few months. He thinks... He thinks that you might be able to go back to school, soon. If your progress stays on track, that is.”

Izumi swallowed. “Oh.” She opened her mouth again, but no words came to her. 

“I-It’s a good thing, right? It means you’re getting better…” Inko said. Izumi looked at her mother. The woman’s left hand was clenching her right, and she took a deep breath. “But, well, due to where we live, there’s only one school you can go to. And...well, it’s the same school that Katsuki goes to.”

Izumi stiffened all over. Even her hair felt like it was tensing up.

“I noticed how you responded to Katsuki, yesterday. Is...Do you want to tell me...I mean, did something happen between you two? B-Because, if you don’t want to be around Katsuki, then I can tell Kenkō-sensei that you still need to stay ho—”

Izumi rounded on her mother. “No!” 

Inko flinched, her eyes widening. “I-Izumi?”

Izumi clutched her console in a white fingered grip. Blinking away the spinning her sudden head turn caused, she looked her mother dead in the eye and shook her head. It didn’t help her nausea, but Izumi didn’t care right now. “N-No,” she said, softer this time. “N-Nothing happened between us. I don’t need to stay home to stay away from him, or anything. I…” she swallowed, “I want to go to school!”

Inko maintained eye contact for several moments. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, if you’re sure…”

“I am,” Izumi said, mustering more confidence in her voice. She gave a single firm nod for good measure.

She wasn’t. At all. But this was just another stepping stone in her path to recovery.

And again. She wouldn’t let anyone or anything get in the way of that.

* * *

Fortunately, Izumi had only missed about half a year of schooling. Meaning she didn’t have much she needed to catch up on. Other than about 3 years of socialising, that is.

After a few more weeks, more walks, and a couple of visits from Kenkō-sensei, Izumi was ready to go to school

Well. Ready was a strong word. But she was doing it anyway.

* * *

“Everyone, this is Midoriya Izumi-chan. Due to some health issues she wasn’t able to join us at the start of the year, but now she’s well enough to be here! Let’s give her a warm welcome,” said Izumi’s new homeroom teacher.

She and Izumi stood at the front of the classroom. The teacher was resting her hand on Izumi’s shoulder. Her other hand hovered at her side, as if she was concerned that Izumi would collapse at any moment.

Izumi shook a little as her new classmates stared at her. Some of them said hello, but Izumi was too busy trying to avoid Katsuki’s indifferent expression to really react. Until, “Why are you wearing a face mask?” and, “What’s your quirk?”

Izumi’s eyes snapped to the kid who asked. His quirk was pretty obvious, his entire head looking like it was made of wood. Izumi glanced around the room, and saw the blatant interest on their faces. Except Katsuki, who scoffed.

“She doesn’t have one. She’s quirkless.”

“Eh!?”

“Quirkless? What’s that?”

“Everyone, quiet down, please!” the teacher raised her voice. Everyone fell silent. “Midoriya-chan isn’t quirkless, Bakugou-kun. However, her quirk makes her rather sickly, which is why she’s wearing the mask. I want everyone to promise to be careful with her, okay?”

Katsuki’s eyebrows raised. He looked like he’d never been told he was wrong about anything before. Izumi was pretty sure he hadn’t. He’d always been the smartest in the room. It was something she used to admire about her old friend.

“Her quirk makes her sick?”

“That’s kinda lame.”

“At least she has one, I guess.”

Izumi bit the inside of her lip to stop herself telling that person  _ exactly _ what she thought of that sentiment. She was back to avoiding Katsuki’s gaze, not wanting to see the moment what the teacher said settled in.

“Everyone, that’s enough! Midoriya-chan,” the teacher knelt down a little to be eye level with Izumi, “there’s a seat in the back that you can use. Let me know if there’s anything you need, or if you start to feel ill. Okay?” Her voice was kind, but the pity in the woman’s eyes had Izumi biting down harder. Regardless, she nodded. “Okay, off you go!”

Izumi made sure to keep avoiding Katsuki’s gaze as she moved to her seat. She tried to avoid everyone’s, keeping her eyes on the floor. As she sat at her new desk, Izumi focused on her hands.

Sitting tight around her left wrist was a white armband. It looked like a smart watch, but it’s function was much more useful for Izumi’s needs. With a press of a button, a signal would be sent to the local hospital, and within five minutes an ambulance would be dispatched. Such accessories are only handed out to a select few. Izumi was one of only seven patients who currently had one, mostly due to how much of a personal interest Kenkō-sensei took in her case.

When the man gave it to her, he stressed that she was to only use it in a true emergency. Abusing it for a joke or any childish reasons would see it revoked, and her mother would pull her out of school immediately. The bracelet had been the only reason Inko was willing to let her attend, after all.

The bracelet was a lifeline, in more ways than one.

* * *

Morning classes came and went, and all too soon was lunch time. Izumi didn’t have time to take out her lunch box before some kids were next to her desk.

“So, Midoriya, does your quirk really make you sick?” one boy said, using her desk to lean in.

Izumi looked down at her lap, giving a small nod. “Y-Yes…”

“Man, that really is lame,” another boy said, folding his arms. “Your quirk is weird! What’s it called?”

Izumi swallowed, glancing at the boys around her desk. She wasn’t used to being so crowded. “U-Um...it’s called…ness” she mumbled, hoping they didn’t hear her. Maybe her mask would muffle it too much.

“Hah? Your quirk is called Weakness?!” Katsuki’s loud voice made Izumi jump. No such luck, then. Katsuki pushed his way through the small crowd around her. He had an incredulous look on his face.

A sound of amusement pushed itself through one of the boy’s lips, and soon enough they were all laughing at her. Some girls nearby started giggling and talking amongst themselves. Izumi sank in her seat.

“How the hell is that a quirk!?” Katsuki scoffed, looking down his nose at Izumi. “That’s freaking useless!”

“Yeah, that’s totally useless!”

“Nothing like Katsuki’s awesome quirk!”

“Hey, ever heard of the term dekunobou?” Katsuki said, apropos of nothing. His question cut through the laughter, and several children looked at him, then amongst themselves. Eventually, they shook their heads.

“Um, nope.”

“Nah.”

“What’s that, Katsuki?”

Izumi sunk further in her seat as a nasty look crossed Katsuki’s face. “It means ‘good for nothing’. Basically, someone who can’t do anything.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone took that in. Then the laughter resumed.

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, she’s totally good for nothing!”

“She’s a dekunobou!”

“Deku,” Katsuki said, sneering down at her, galvanised by the laughter of their peers. “That’s a perfect name for someone so useless!”

“Yeah, Deku!”

“Deku!”

“Deku!”

Izumi’s body shook. She stared down at her clenched fists, willing the tears to stay put. The cold in her chest pulsed, and she bit down on her lip again, harder than ever. Metal flooded her taste buds as teeth pierced flesh a little.

“Oi, Deku, what’s that on your wrist?” Izumi froze as a hand entered her vision, reaching for her own. “What is it, a watch? Where the hell are the numbers?” Katsuki grabbed her wrist and lifted. He easily ignored her feeble attempts at pulling free. “Even your watch is a Deku!”

Izumi’s heart almost stopped as Katsuki’s fingers brushed against the button. “S-Stop! Leave it alone!”

Katsuki’s face collapsed into a snarl. “Hah? You telling me what to do, Deku?!” Izumi winced when his grip tightened. 

“P-Please, leave it al—” 

“Children? Is everything okay?”

Katsuki dropped her hand, and stepped away. Izumi pulled her hand back, holding it against her chest. She could almost feel the chill against her palm. “Nothing’s wrong, sensei,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes at Izumi. “We were just saying hello.” 

His eyes dared her to disagree. Having no desire to take him up on that, Izumi nodded. “Y-Yes, they were,” Izumi said, when the woman looked at her.

“Well, alright then, but make sure not to crowd Midoriya-chan. She’s very fragile, you understand? And don’t forget to eat your lunch. I’m sure your parents worked hard on it, and you don’t want to waste that hard work, do you, everyone?”

The group dispersed with various takes on “No” and “Yes, sensei”, and moved to their normal lunchtime positions. Katsuki gave her one last sneer before stomping away.

Izumi took a deep breath, and rubbed her eyes with her other hand. She gave her bracelet a long look before pulling out her lunch.

Katsuki could call her whatever he wanted. They all could. But if anyone tried to touch the wristband again…

She might not be able to throw a punch or run away without either getting in trouble or making herself unwell, but the inside of her mouth could testify to what she could do with her teeth.

Thoughts of sinking her teeth into anyone who tried to mess with her helped keep back the tears. Helped ignore the chants of “Deku” bouncing around her skull.

* * *

“How was your day, Izumi?” Inko asked, looking down at Izumi. The two walked hand in hand on the way to Inko’s car. Something her mother hadn’t owned until Izumi got sick, when it became a necessity.

Just another thing for her father to pay for.

The old guilt was forced down. Down with the beeping and  _ Deku! Deku! Deku! _ , and with the ice over her heart. Ignoring all that, Izumi gave her mother a giant, masked smile, her eyes screwed shut from the effort. 

“It was great!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is bad enough at the best of times. For Izumi, it's not much better. 
> 
> Bakugou is always a little shit, but I hope it's not too out there in this. Some people really go nuts with young Bakugou being awful. Granted, he does beat up Kid Deku, so he was pretty bad as a kid. But how some people portray kid Bakugou, yeesh.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter. Quirky Compendium will mostly likely get an update next, then this. Until then!


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